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"Birds of Prey"Written By: ExecutiveShrimp Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, it belongs
to Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. Written for pleasure not
profit. Rating: R Warnings: Adventure & Suspense, Pairings: 1x2 Summary: Only twenty feet, but over 200 million years between them and for a while neither party knew what to do. The creature took a step towards them, almost apprehensively. Duo and Heero reactively jumped back and Duo tripped over his own feet and fell backwards. Then it all boiled down to two things: Predator. And prey. Birds of Prey – A GW adaptation of Jurassic Park (1993)
"Birds of Prey" Chapter 3
They met the man at his boat at the docks at sunrise, when the other fishing boats were also heading out to sea for their catch of the day. The fisherman had agreed to drop them off on the Eastern shore of the island and he'd spend the following days out at sea, remaining close enough to the island to be able to come pick them up quickly if need be. With a radio they could call him in. The man knew InGen had the Coast Guard regularly patrol the island, but they didn't bother the local fishermen. He offered them a hand to help them climb aboard. Even in the harbor, the waves were choppy. The boat rocked and the steel hull banged against the wooden dock with a sickening sound. "We have storm coming in," said the fisherman, Hector. He motioned up to the sky, which was a perfect gradient of pink and orange, not a single cloud in sight, yet Duo did not doubt his weather forecast. "Oh? Bad?" "Do not know. Will probably drift South like the last two. But if storm comes, I must come in." He gestured around himself, indicating he would have to return to the harbor. Duo looked to his partner. "What do think? Should be wait it out?" Heero shook his head. "No, let's get this over with." He held up the walkie-talkie, of which the fisherman had its twin. "The signal is strong enough to reach you here too, right?" "Yes, signal no problem. Even from here I can be to island in five hours. Come to wherever you need." With his hand he made a big circle in the air, meaning he could come to any location on the shore of Isla Nublar. "Okay. Let's do this," Heero decided and he pocketed the radio. Duo nodded, he was hoping Heero would agree to go through with it. He was too excited to back down now. He wouldn't have the patience to wait any longer. The engine of the boat sputtered to life and they started their straight trajectory towards the island. Out at sea, the wind had Duo's long braid of hair whipping against his back and tugged at his loose jacket. He also wore a cotton shirt, khaki cargo pants and sturdy hiking boots that had accompanied him to Tanzania, the Congo and Tijuana before, exposing personal stories of slavery, war crimes and drug trafficking. Heero was similarly dressed. They both had experience with unforgiving climates and conditions. They each also carried a backpack with some water, food and survival gear. They couldn't possible carry enough water for the entire trip, so they would still have to find a source of water on the island. Importantly, they each also had a camera with them. Just as Hector had said, it took them five hours to reach the Eastern shore of the island, which consisted mostly of cliffs. From a distance they traveled along the coast, scanning the coastline with binoculars to find a good place to land. Hector slowed down the boat when Duo pointed out a small strip of white beach, where the cliffs on either side softened into hills. A rumbling sound had the three men looking up at the blue sky. A few miles South of their position they spotted a large helicopter crossing over the ocean, heading straight for Isla Nublar, where it disappeared over the mountains. Even if they had been seen by the pilot and the occupants, they were still nothing but unassuming fishermen. The helicopter didn't circle back to check up on then, instead the noise died out until only the sound of waves lapping at the hull remained. However, in case the helicopter had called in a favor from the Coast Guard to come investigate, they knew they had to be quick. Hector took the fishing boat a little closer before dropping anchor. He cast a net to keep up pretenses before the three of them climbed into the small steel dinghy they had towed out with them. It had a decent motor mounted on the back of it and Hector swiftly brought them closer to shore. Only a few yards off the beach, Duo and Heero jumped into the waist-deep water but a crashing wave had them struggle to keep their heads above the surface. Thankfully everything in their backpacks had been packaged to be waterproof. They walked onto the beach and looked back to see Hector make his way back to his fishing boat. The man looked over his shoulder and waved at them. Once hidden in the tree line, they took a moment to shake excess water out of their packs. Duo took off his jacket, wrung it out and folded it under an elastic loop at the side of the backpack, so it could air dry like the rest of his clothes. Heero took off the long-sleeved button-up he had been wearing on top of his navy blue shirt and he tied it around his waist. They had a map of the island with them, but with it being a private island, nothing had been marked. No roads, no buildings or any other landmark. All they had was the shape of the island and the two rivers coming down from the mountain that merged right before meeting the ocean, a few miles South of where the two journalists had landed. "Here we go," Duo said and he led the way through the foliage. The plan was to head straight West, towards one of the branches of the river, hoping they would encounter a road or something else along the way that could lead them during their investigation. They cut through the thick jungle. Their clothes remained damp in the humidity. Duo smelled the salt of the ocean and of his own sweat on him. Using a compass was the only way to stay on track and not veer off unwanted. Only when the trees moved in the wind did flashes of the blue sky appear above them. Around them, tropical birds sang their songs. If there was any other wildlife, they both had two hunting knives – a large one holstered at their hip and a smaller back-up on the ankle of their right foot. They had gone on many adventures together, many years ago and it seemed neither had changed his methods since. That made Duo smile, for it still connected them, in spite of how their relationship had fizzled out. With nothing to occupy their minds as they scoured the forest, Duo called over his shoulder. "I really enjoyed your three-part piece exposing the corruption in New York's investment banking." "Thanks." "Surprised me to hear you ended up dating one of those bankers." "I'm not dating 'one of those bankers'. Michael was my informant, the story wouldn't even have been possible without his intel. I did look into him and his nose was clean." "Yeah? Or maybe you couldn't tell because he had his nose up your ass." There was a pause and then Duo was hit in the shoulder by a rock thrown his way. "Hey!" He stopped and spun around. Heero stood a few yards back, glaring at him. "If he was a rotten apple himself, why would he help me?" Duo shrugged. "Because he saw an opportunity to wipe out his competition? And then dating the journalist who exposed them is a pretty cunning way to make himself look innocent." Heero chuckled bitterly and kept walking, physically pushing past the other man to take the lead. "You know what, Duo? This is why you're still stuck at the Tribune. This kind of bullshit. Just write a novel and get your recognition that way, because you are a world-class fiction-writer." "Heero," he started as he moved to keep pace with him on the uneven flooring of the jungle. Taking care not to stumble over branches or slip on the wet stones. "I know you. The only reason you are even getting worked-up right now, is because the same thought crossed your mind." "Well, innocent until proven guilty," he groused. "Right… and until then the money is good huh?" Heero stopped dead in his tracks at the insinuation and he spun around to glare at him. "That's rich, coming from you. The only reason you came to me, after two fucking years, was to get money to fund this goddamn goose chase." "Goose chase?" Heero threw his hands up in defeat. "Parrot chase. Whatever." "If you think there is nothing to find, why didn't you pull the plug back in Puerto Carillo?" "I guess because I pitied you." "Well, I don't need your pity." "No. No, you just need my money." They stared at each other for a minute, each panting because of their own rage. Duo knew there were many who pitied him, following a story that blew up in his face. He had written an article about sexual intimidation by the CEO of a large corporation, only to have his single witness recant after the paper went to press. In spite of his efforts, his career had never recovered. Heero won his Pullitzer that same year and neither could deny that Duo's jealousy and Heero's pity had played a big part in their relationship eventually failing. He got a job at the New York Times, whereas Duo was lucky to have the editor in Chief of the San Diego Union-Tribune willing to give him a chance. They had spent a lot of time apart over the course of their relationship, seeing as their work took them all around the world. But it was the distance between San Diego and New York that ended up being too much. They didn't say any more, but just continued their trek through the jungle in silence. They eventually reached the river, which at that point was nothing but a meter-wide stream coming down from the mountains. The water was cool and they both cupped some in their hands and splashed it on their face and neck for some relief from the sweltering heat that was trapped under the canopy of leaves. In the shortest exchange of words possible, they agreed to follow the stream down to a lower altitude. The river widened and they crossed it before it go too deep and the current too strong and they knew they had to stop following it since it would only lead them to shore, so they headed due West again. A mist hung between the trees forming beads of condensation on their hot faces. Duo checked his watch. They had been walking for six hours straight and he knew Heero must be as tired as he was, since they had left the hotel at four to meet the fisherman at the docks at five. It had been a short night and a long day. He called to the other, who was a few yards ahead of them, an appropriate distance that had made them both feel less tense for the past few hours. "We should take a break and get some rest." Heero stopped, but didn't respond. Then he continued on his quickened pace. "Heero?" "There's something…-" Duo grumbled under his breath, something about Heero never being the best at communicating. But he rushed to follow him and he peered through the trees and shrubbery up ahead. Between the green palm leaves and brown branches he caught glimpses of grey; steel and concrete. Both men came to a halt at the base of a twenty foot tall fence. Horizontal steel cords, reinforced with a net of thinner wiring, strung between posts every couple of yards, on a meter-wide foundation of solid concrete. Every section of fence had a sign that read: 10.000 VOLTS. Atop the steel posts a light flashed on and off. Whenever the rustling leaves quieted long enough, they could actually hear the buzz of the electrical current running through the wires. "What the fuck…" Heero tilted his head back and his mouth was agape. "Still think there is no story here?"
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